Building Resilience 101

I have a Very Important interview coming up soon, which could mean a big change in my career and lifestyle. Because of this, and many important deadlines at work, I've been ignoring this blog and ignoring the fact that, no, the psychiatrist has still not contacted me. Not the week she promised to, not even the same month. Were I not balanced and ready to jump into this Very Important opportunity, I would pursue this unreasonable delay.

But the reality is, it's not the right time to start medication. This month has been put to better use finding other ways to cope -- most especially, preparing for the Very Important interview.  I'm pleased to say I have been productive so far, and I've been recognising and coping with triggers for my anxiety. There are still far too many to make significant progress on my own, but I am moving forward.

Part of that moving forward means becoming more familiar with (rather than defending against) the deep shame I feel in response to the many years of bullying and neglect. It's woven into the most numb moments, as I slosh water everywhere, rushing through the bathroom, avoiding the mirrors, avoiding myself.

The answer is Slow. Slow everything down. Slow my breath. Slow the movement. Relax the muscle. Each one, one by one. Slow.

It takes time. Things take longer, far longer than ever before. And I realise, then, how I came to sacrifice so much of myself in the last 30 years, just to survive.

So, I'm changing the moments.

This morning I wrote "You are worth it" on the misty mirror. These affirmations would have never worked while my thoughts were so severed from my feelings. It's the right time now.

My phone buzzes -- the Track Your Happiness project is ready for my next survey. How do I feel on a scale of Bad to Good? For the last week, I wondered if the emptiness I felt was really all that empty. Could it be good? Could I really feel good?


These are exciting times, because, illness aside, this is the start we all need to form ourselves. This is what Psychotherapist Number 2 meant when she said just letting yourself feel what you feel, because it is feelings which form our understanding of who we are.

I want to name the feeling. I think I'm happy.

I'm still (very often) many other things. But for the first time, Good is more than fleeting. Good has taken root.

As expected following the integration of EP-Sad and EP-Happy, I feel the worst I've felt in years. Seriously ashamed, sometimes suicidal, but also good. A modest sort of good: like the first minute of relief from a migraine or in going outside after a major thunderstorm. Tired, wary, but relishing the newfound space to live.

We are approaching the anniversary of some pretty remarkable changes in my life. Reading old posts is scary and brings a different sort of shame, but mostly I feel like a little girl, jumping up and down, calling on everyone who ever loved her:

Are you proud of me? 

The Parent in me smiles, because she knows that what the Child really means is this:

I am proud of me. 

And the Adult sitting before you feels Good, because she believes, where she didn't before:

That pride is no longer yours to take.